


Don't talk to me I Angwy.... Nines can stay though

by Manyllines



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Gavin likes to let out his anger by destroying abandoned buildings, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Injuries, Nines is great (boy)friend, No Beta read we die like men, They aren't in a relationship yet but....the pining is real, also getting into fights, both physical and emotional, just a bloody nose if i'm not wrong, there is some blood, vent fic, yes i know another
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:07:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27286159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Manyllines/pseuds/Manyllines
Summary: In Gavin's opinion, the best way to get out of your frustrations? Break shit out.Everything just break it.Fuck yourself up in a fight and Break all that comes into view.That's what he does anyway.
Relationships: Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed
Comments: 7
Kudos: 58





	Don't talk to me I Angwy.... Nines can stay though

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly.....I don't know what this is. It's like a couple months old, but it was just getting dust so i decided to post it. This incredibly selfindulgent...  
> Anyway, wish I could do it like Gavin sometimes :)
> 
> Again this is a vent fic, so it might not be any good. But i guess i tried

Gavin licks his bottom lip, getting out the dried and now currently running blood that falls from his nose like small torrents. His gaze burns where he looks at the half destroyed walls of this more than run down building, hot burning rage runs through his body from head to toe, leaving him hot and shaky. He takes multiple deep breaths willing himself to try and stay calm.

Hah funny!

He grinds his teeth so hard he swears he almost hears something crack. The hold he has on the half bent pipe he found tightness so much that his hands get white, hard enough that his split knuckles start bleeding again. It hurts. But god does it feel good.

“FUCK!”

He screams, before bringing the pipe closer to his head and swings it full speed against the wall.

The pipe hit it again and again and again each hit getting harsher and harder, rage flows through him like waves.

He hits every surface, every little thing that his fists haven’t touched.

He laughs borderline maniacally as he keeps swinging.

Adrenaline coursing through his body like the water flows through the torrent. Fast and violent.

He makes giant holes on the plaster.

The windows that weren't crashed into tiny pieces also go with his swinging.

Some moments he forgets the pipe and uses his fists, ripping holes bigger and bigger, breaking everything.

Walls.

Trash.

Windows.

Everything in his sight gets smashed again and again until it’s completely unrecognizable.

He’s scalding like hot burning water, steaming from a kettle.

He screams.

Curses.

And he breaks.

Destroys.

He hurts.

But he doesn't stop.

  


He only stops when the pipe slips from his hand when the shaking gets uncontrollable, when his legs wobble with each aborted step he takes.

So he ends up standing in the middle of an abandoned building, surrounded by destruction, his destruction, heaving choked breaths.

And just like that, like the wave of emotion he was feeling moments ago, he crashes.

He lands hard on his ass, only being able to cushion his fall by what little his hands are able to hold. Sitting in the middle of the broken plaster, the glass shards, the breakage he caused, he stares straight ahead. The punches he took hours ago, before coming to this little isolated piece of chaos, start to ache full force.

“Fuck,” he hisses between his clenched teeth, the taste of cooper permanent on his tongue.

It’s hard to get his breathing under control when everything is crashing down on him so fast and so suddenly.

Looking around his pockets blindly he picks up his phone. His eyes blur with tears as he tries to search through his contacts, when the one he’s looking for appears he hits the dial and waits.

“Hey, ‘you busy?”

  
  


Somehow he managed to pull himself against a wall 20 minutes after just staring blankly at the floor, willing his breathing to stabilize and his thoughts to slow down.

And guess what? He actually did it.

‘Yay, me!’ He cheers tiredly to himself, all his bones hurt. He would grimace at the injuries he sees when he does a slow scan of the damage he did to himself, he would if he wasn't so damn tired.

His hands are truly fucked, little cuts litter both his palms and backs, his knuckles are also absolutely fucked and if they stopped shaking and his eyes stopped blurring he would’ve been able to find more stuff wrong.

Chest and all that? A few cuts here and there, maybe a bruise.

Face? Fucked, nose broken, probably a black eye, cuts, cuts, cuts.

He’s tiredly looking at his legs when he finally hears footsteps approaching him. He lets his head loll to the side, resting against the wall, and staring right at the ‘only’ entrance.

Nines appears at the doorway.

His eyes zero on Gavin immediately, frown smoothing to something more relieved.

He sighs

“Hi.”

Gavin smiles.

“Sup,” he croaks back.

God his voice is so fucked.

Gavin’s eyes follow Nines as he enters the room fully to crouch in front of him.

“Again?” Nines asks, voice still soft and smooth as honey.

Gavin loves Nines voice, it calms his thoughts and grounds him, it makes him feel centered and collected.

It’s scary, really.

It’s scary how he would do anything that soft voice ordered.

It’s scary how much he loves the owner of that voice.

“‘Ya ‘now how’s it is,” he slurs.

Nines face stays carefully neutral as he hums, but Gavin. Oh Gavin knows better than that.

Gavin can see the worry and the sadness and, he almost laughs himself, the slight amusement, all those emotions that hide themselves behind those gorgeous eyes.

God he loves his eyes-

“...Gavin,” Nines calls, snapping gently his fingers in front of his face.

He stares at those long dexterous fingers, before trailing his eyes to those beautiful, beautiful eyes.

“Can I touch you?”

His brain takes a couple of seconds to process what Nines had asked. Touch…. Touch. Touch? He looks at Nines other hands and sees a little first aid kit right beside a black backpack.

Ahhhhhh, touch.

“Yeah,” he breathes through a groan of pain.

The amusement grows a little bigger than the sadness, but with it so does the worry. Nines starts with his face, putting a finger under his chin he leans closer, inspecting all little cuts and bruises and probably his broken nose.

He hums in disapproval before grabbing some gauze and stuff to clean his wounds?

God his brain his so fuzzy.

They sit in silence all through Nines patching him up, only his occasional hiss or groan from pain and the little apology Nines always tells afterwards are the only sound on the entire building.

Gavin feels completely drained from everything.

And if it weren't for Nines to casually shake him, he would have fallen asleep sooner or later.

After everything is packed in its individual place Nines stares at Gavin’s face. Looking, searching, making sure nothing escaped his careful mending. He can’t help but smile when Nines nods to himself and moves to get up.

Wordlessly Nines takes off his jacket and gently drapes it over Gavin’s shoulders.

Warm.

It smells nice.

Too distracted with the jacket Gavin doesn’t notice Nines bending at the waist to haul him up to his arms.

Gavin startles at the sudden movement, just to hiss right after.

“Jesus fuck, Termin’tor. I c’n walk,” he mumbles against Nines shoulder.

Hmm, he’s so warm.

Unconsciously he nuzzles closer to the warmth, tugging himself right besides Nines’ neck, a little under his chin.

He feels small like this.

Safe.

“My house is closer,” Gavin feels more than hears Nines rumbling voice against his cheek, “I hope you don’t mind,” he then adds softly.

“It’s fine” he mumbles sleepily against Nines skin. ‘If it means I’m closer to you’, ‘As long as you're there with me’ all these sentences pass through his head to add to what he said, but the warmth is too nice, and the mechanic sound that reverberates from nines lulls him gently to unconsciousness.

Nines says something but he can’t hear it anymore, it sounded sweet.

He’s asleep before they reach the car.

**Author's Note:**

> Just gonna write a little vent here so, Thank you for reading.  
> I hope you liked it
> 
> Vent
> 
> Sadly things have been a little rough for me, my motivation to do anything is absolutly at the 0s, i am self doubting like there is no tomorow and school as been rough in general.  
> I feel like my writting is absolutly trash, same thing with my drawing habilities.  
> I just feel like, ya know, they're not worthy to be out there and no one really cares. Some of my friends say that that is not true but.... is it really? Are all this words really worthy it?  
> I suppose they aren't.  
> But am I to judge.  
> (The irony)


End file.
